


Domestic Drabble Soup for the Fangirl Soul

by aishitara



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Drabble Collection, Gen, Love Confessions, M/M, Tags May Change, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27335278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishitara/pseuds/aishitara
Summary: This will be the space for me to drop little ficlets and drabbles that pop into my brain. Some of the things I'm saving to write in between writing longer things will be domestic in nature, and I hope that the majority of these offerings will be silly and fluffy and comforting.Of course, the first one is just sad.Anticipate that tags and warnings will change as I add to this collection. I expect that this will be almost 100% deancas, but there is always the possibility for other pairings (not Dean or Cas with others) or just gen stories.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 3





	Domestic Drabble Soup for the Fangirl Soul

Dean knows that it’s a one-way ride. He knows that this is goodbye.

He turns to Cas and wraps a hand around the back of the angel’s neck, yanks him close, presses their foreheads together. Dean squeezes his eyes shut. He’s terrified, fear trying to choke him into silence. But.

He just has to say it this one time. Just once. It’s all they’re gonna get.

“I love you, Castiel.”

Dean feels Cas’ gasp more than hears it: a sharp, sudden rise of his chest against Dean’s arm. He draws in a short breath of his own, squeezing his eyes shut harder against the unexpected sting of tears.

“I love you, so much. And I’m– I’m so sorry it took– all this time for me to tell you. I shoulda–” Dean cuts himself off. His whole life was a string of shoulda’s that trailed after him like a goddamn haunt. Cas deserves… so much more than just Dean.

“I shoulda told you every day since I knew it,” Dean says, low and full of regret. “I wish I had, Cas. I’m gonna wish it every second till I'm dead.” 

Dean opens his eyes, daring finally to look at Castiel’s face. The angel’s eyes are wide and hopeful, but tears tremble on his bottom lashes, just waiting to fall. Dean can see everything there. Every glance. Every stare. Every thing unsaid or undone between them, poor circumstances and bad decisions and _wasted time_ a long ribbon spooling out into their conjoined past. He can see want and need and– and _love_ in Castiel’s eyes. As he’d always been able to, but wouldn’t let himself believe was real, or that he deserved a single ounce of it.

“Dean–” 

Dean shakes his head, pushes his other hand into Castiel’s hair and pulls his head down. A few rogue tears make their escape and track down Dean’s cheeks as he kisses Castiel on the forehead, just between his eyebrows. It’s a barely-there thing, a brush of his mouth across skin, and it feels both utterly electric and devastatingly final.

This is all they’re gonna get.

“Goodbye, Cas.”


End file.
